


serena ira

by RabbitTankSparkling



Series: P5 Girls Week 2021 [3]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: (a person's shadow is killed), Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Minor Character Death, persona 5 royal spoilers, villain AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 14:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30124128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RabbitTankSparkling/pseuds/RabbitTankSparkling
Summary: she is called the grief-bringer, the hag of the iron wood, the mother of wolves. her claws are sharp and her fangs uncountable.
Series: P5 Girls Week 2021 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2213196
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	serena ira

**Author's Note:**

> P5 Girls' Week 2021, day 4! I chose Villain AU for today's prompt!
> 
> This is actually set in a whole AU i have planned out, I really want to write it someday but we'll see if I ever get around to it lol

Mementos pulsed around her, alive in its vastness. He’d told her that it’d be like this, but being here was something else entirely. Not just the walls and floors, but the very air _seethed_ at their presence.

“People who defy the public conscience aren’t welcome within it,” he’d explained to her. “We’ll be fine, so long as we don’t linger in any one place too long.”

Sumire walked carefully, but with purpose, sticking close to her partner’s back. The lever-action felt so _right_ in her hands, weighty and present. The physicality of the thing helped to anchor her.

“How far are we?” She kept her voice low, as he’d instructed.

“Not much further,” came the reply. “It’s on this level, we just have to find it.”

The trek continued almost without incident, save a scuffle with some aggressive Shadows. Their blades were quick, her rifle and his pistol silencing the attackers with ease. No Personas yet, they’d need to conserve their strength for the target.

Sumire’s Persona buzzed under her skin, itching for her to tear away her mask so it could crawl out the hole left in her face and loose its grief at something. It was the directionless anguish she felt at all times given focus, the thing that was her heart a sobering reminder of the weak self she’d let die in her Palace.

**“Let die” is such a passive way to say it,** her Persona said. **You killed your old self. Revel in that.**

She was right, of course. Sumire’s old self was dead because she’d willed it so. No more being chained to her sister’s corpse, lurking in Kasumi’s shadow even in death. The new Sumire demanded agency, fought for retribution, forged her own path.

“It’s here,” her partner said. He led her through a twisting doorway, and their target stood alone in the room, motionless and waiting.

There was no conversation past the Shadow’s _who are you_ , only the tearing of her mask from her face with a cry of _“Angrboda!”_ , the kick of her rifle, the black-and-white zigzags and hateful blade of her comrade’s Persona flashing in the red un-light of Mementos, pierced by Angrboda’s fangs and baleful magic. The wolf-creature that was her other self ripped and tore and gave no quarter.

It was over in a few minutes, the creature re-forming into the shape of a man, now pitiful and hunched and hand-wringing. It made Sumire sick.

“You must be the Phantom Thieves,” it said. “This is that thing where you steal someone’s heart, isn’t it? Are you gonna steal my heart?”

“No,” Akechi said plainly, Loki returning to his mask. “No, you’ll keep your heart.” He gazed sidelong at Sumire, eyes tinted red by the lenses built into his mask. His expression was mostly concealed, but no less clear. This was hers to finish.

Sumire Yoshizawa raised her rifle and put a bullet between the Shadow’s eyes. It faded into dust, and she coldly realized she didn’t even know its name.

“Good,” Akechi grunted. “Take the money he dropped for yourself and let’s get out of here.”

“Do you want it?” She spoke up before she could catch herself, stopping Akechi in his tracks as he moved towards the exit. “The money, I mean.”

“I don’t need money,” he spat. “I get plenty of that from my employer. You’ll need it for equipment, I can’t buy any for you or it’ll look suspicious.” Sumire shrugged, not wishing to press the question further. Akechi, she’d learned, was not someone to try to wheedle information from.

Two thousand yen and something called a Goho-M later, they stood before the exit to Mementos.

“You go first,” he said, gesturing to the door. “I’ll wait a while so we aren’t seen together.”

“And what if I run into Akira-senpai?” That, she admitted, was seemingly the hardest part of this little venture she’d embarked on with the Detective Prince- keeping it a secret from Akira and his band of thieves. She saw something of herself in Akira, and hoped desperately that she would never have to pull the rug out from under him the way she suspected Akechi planned to.

“You know nothing. You don’t have a Persona, and you _cannot hear his cat speak._ And don’t let him see your phone. If he finds out you have the app, it’s over.” He leaned against the wall by the door, lithe form half-shadowed by the pillars around the subway entrance. “I’ll text you next time there’s a job.”

“I’ll see you later, Akechi-senpai.” She moved for the door, letting the Metaverse slough off her and settling back into the skin of Sumire the honor student. The sky outside the subway was clear and bright, and with a deep breath, Sumire Yoshizawa let herself smile.

It felt good to be free.


End file.
